


If I cannot bring you comfort

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-05
Updated: 2000-05-05
Packaged: 2018-11-11 06:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11142585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A case helps Ray settle things with his father.  WARNING:  Angst abounds.





	If I cannot bring you comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

 

If I cannot bring you comfort

 

Standard Disclaimer. Hey, I put them back.  
What more do you want? The title is from the the soundtrack of the movie  
 _Toys_.  Please send comments, questions, compliments, and  
otters to or visit http://www.members.xoom.com/dueSou.

This has been one of the hardest stories I've ever written.  I'd like  to thank Shannon and Anagi (even when she's late) for their help.  I'd also like to thank Kathleen and Catherine (especially for not strangling me everytime I threatened to burn this whenever I had to look at it again.) for all their support.  I couldn't have done it without them.  Probably the only story I've ever written with a clear theme:  Some people should never become parents. 

"Dedicated" to "Bob,"  who should have known better. 

#  If I cannot bring you comfort

It was a lovely night for walking. Unreasonably warm for that time of  
year, the weather was clear and the moon was full. What better way to  
spend the evening than walking with his two favorite people. Well, individuals.  
Thankfully they weren't in Fraser's neighborhood, otherwise a walk at  
night would have been out of the question even for two cops and a wolf.

Normally their walk around the neighborhood was a leisurely trip around the block but since it was such a nice night, they had decided on a walk through the park. Dief, of course, didn't mind. Entering the park, he ran ahead, barking happily. They followed behind more slowly, close enough to feel like they were holding hands, content for the moment to be together quietly. 

The park was a monument to nature, one of the few places in Chicago where trees hadn't been selectively removed and replaced with a few breeds such as sycamore and silver maple. Centrally located were a swing set and some monkey bars, the limit of the park's play equipment. It was here that they first saw the boy, sitting on a swing and crying. The park was deserted except for the four of them, and as a cop, Ray was obligated to intervene. Mentally, he was already filling out the missing person's report; male, about 10 years old, brown hair, brown eyes, about 70 pounds, 4'8" give or take an inch, no visible distinguishing marks . . . 

Dief startled the boy when he placed paws on his knees and started licking his face. Most kids would have laughed and squirmed under the rough tongue but not this one. The boy curled up tighter, hiding his face between his arms and jacket. Tossing a bewildered glance at his partner, Ray caught the boy's eye by kneeling in front of him. 

"Are you okay? Do you need some help?" 

With his bangs falling across his eyes the boy looked young and innocent. "I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers." 

Ray wiped the tears off one cheek with his index finger. "That's good, you know, cause you really shouldn't. But it's okay because I'm a police officer. See?" He showed the boy his badge. "My name is Ray. What's yours?" 

"What's his name?" He pointed at the wolf without answering. 

"His name is Diefenbaker." 

"Diefenbaker?" 

"Yes, he's named after the Canadian Prime Minister." Fraser replied. 

The boy peered up at him. "Are you a police officer too?" 

"This is my best friend Benny. He's a Mountie, so it's okay to talk to him too." 

The tears had stopped but he was still holding his arm. "Okay." He smiled bravely. 

"Does your arm hurt?" 

With a small nod the boy replied. "A little." 

"Why don't we go to the hospital and let them take a look? I'm sure they can make it stop hurting, okay?" 

"Promise?" 

"I promise." 

* * *

"His arm is definitely broken. He won't tell us his name or what  
happened. Did you get anything out of him?"

"No. He wouldn't tell us either. Are there any other injuries?" 

"Well, other than his arm, no. He's scared, though." 

"Of what? Any signs of abuse?" 

"No, we didn't see any previously broken bones on the x-rays. No scars from belts or other warning signs. Once we get a name we'll check against previous medical records, see if he's been in several times. He has a few bruises but nothing unusual for a boy his age. In all likelihood he fell of the swings. Most kids play rough." 

"Thanks Doc." He turned to Fraser. "Elaine's checking his description against missing persons. Chances are he hasn't been gone long enough, but maybe someone reported him missing anyway." 

"Abuse? Isn't it a little early to start thinking like that?" 

"Maybe. I don't know. This is Chicago, Fraser. You find a kid, alone at night with a broken arm and chances are he's not there cause he wants to be." 

Just as he finished, his phone rang. "Vecchio . . . Great! Thanks, Elaine." 

"His name is Joey Toth. His parents just called the station. They're on their way." 

The parents were there inside of a half-hour. By the time they arrived, Joey's arm was in the cast and he was playing quietly with Dief, tear-tracks no longer visible on his face. The mother looked like your normal housewife, the father bore no resemblance to how Ray had pictured him. He was only about 5'7" and he spoke with a deep accent. 

As soon as they walked into the room Joey flew toward her. With slight hesitation and a glance at her husband, she allowed him to press against her waist. 

"Thank you for your help, Officer . . . " 

"Vecchio. Detective Vecchio." Besides saying his name Ray couldn't speak. He shook hands with the man and had to fight the sudden impulse to wash his hands. He looked helplessly at Fraser. 

"Thank you, sir." Only Fraser could discern Ray's minute trembling. He didn't know what was wrong with Ray and wanted to give him a moment to collect himself. "I'm Constable Fraser." 

"Canadian?" 

"Yes sir." 

The man quickly gathered up his family and left without saying anything else. As they were walking out the door, Joey looked back at Ray. Somehow Ray couldn't smile at him like he meant to. All he could do was watch. 

"Are you okay?" Ben placed a hand on Ray's shoulder, as much as he could do in the crowded waiting room. 

He tried again to smile but he couldn't hold it, even now, in front of his best friend. "I don't know, Benny. That didn't feel right. Why would a little kid like that decide to go to the park by himself this late at night? And I don't think he broke his arm on the swing, if he had, he wouldn't have been sitting on one when we found him." 

"Ray, it's entirely possible that he's telling the truth. The doctor said there were no signs of previous abuse." 

"Benny, I'm telling you something doesn't feel right about this." 

"I'm sorry, Ray. There's nothing we can do. Let's go home." 

* * *

At first Ben wasn't sure what had awakened him. Then he realized that he was alone in the bed. Ray stayed over occasionally, usually only when neither of them had to be at work the next day. Believing that Ray had gotten up for a few minutes, he shifted slightly. The cool passing of the sheets surprised him. How long had Ray been up? And where was he? Fraser stood and went looking for Ray. 

He was surprised to see him in the corner of the living room, staring out the window. Curled up in the chair with his hands locked around his knees, Ray didn't seem to notice his presence. The light shining in from a streetlight glistened on Ray's tear stained face and revealed that Ray was shaking. Ray was sobbing without a sound. 

Fraser didn't think it wise to surprise Ray by talking to him or touching him. He sat in another chair nearby, keeping an eye on Ray. Thinking that eventually Ray would become aware of him, he watched and waited. 

After an hour he realized that he had to do something. He went to kneel in front of Ray, placing his hands over Ray's locked fingers. Ray blinked, knowing someone was there, but Ben didn't see any recognition in his eyes. 

"Ray? It's me. Ray, please say something." 

"I'll be quiet, I promise." Ray sounded like a little boy afraid of getting in trouble. 

"Ray, it's okay. I'm awake." 

"I tried to be quiet. I really did." His expression was frighteningly blank. 

"I don't mind, Ray. You don't have to be quiet now. Tell me why you're crying." 

"Crying is for babies. A man doesn't cry." Ray was obviously repeating something he had heard many times. 

"I'm not mad, Ray. You're not in trouble. Why don't you just come back to bed? You need your sleep; you'll feel better in the morning." He tugged gently until Ray stood up. Ray obediently followed him back to the bed but still didn't really wake up. Ben tucked him into one side before getting in himself. Ray fidgeted restlessly the rest of the night, keeping him awake with worry. Exhausted, he drifted off several hours later. 

* * *

The next morning Ray was gone before he woke up, leaving only a brief  
note. Realizing that Dief had gone with him made him feel a little less  
worried. He returned several hours later.

"Hey, Benny." 

"Ray, where did you go this morning? I wanted to talk about last night." 

"I had some errands to run." He walked closer to Fraser. "What about last night?" 

He thought that Ray was evading the question but looking into Ray's eyes he saw only honest confusion. Ray had no memory of last night's conversation. "You didn't sleep well." He accepted the offered kiss. 

Ray shrugged. "Sorry if I kept you up. I don't remember anything. Far as I know I slept like a log. When I woke up, you were still asleep, so I took Dief with me." He turned back to the table. "Did you eat yet? I've got leftovers from Ma. She sends her love." 

Unsure how to continue, Fraser replied on autopilot as he began setting the table. "No, I haven't eaten yet." 

After lunch, there were dishes to wash and things to do. The Vecchio washer broke, requiring several hours to fix, mostly because of Tony's belated attempt to quiet his wife by trying to fix it himself. That night he again brought up the topic, but since Ray honestly had no idea what he was talking about, there was nothing he could do. 

* * *

It was easier to be by himself. At home he could leave the light  
on and do work or read or do something. But he enjoyed staying with Fraser  
and if he avoided doing so, it would hurt Fraser, something he would  
give his life to avoid. Staring at the ceiling, he managed not to check  
the alarm clock, correctly assuming that although it may have felt like  
forever, probably very little time had actually passed. He considered  
getting up and doing something else, but that would require disturbing  
the man trustingly and adorably resting on him.

Gently Ray reached over his bedmate and let his eyes linger on the peaceful face. He traced a finger across high cheekbones and down a firm chin. Allowing his hand free rein, he gently stroked up and down a strong arm, from elbow to shoulder and down to the wrist before traveling across to the smooth muscles of Benny's upper back and shoulders. He found this soothing and didn't even notice when Fraser began to wake up until Fraser shifted to look at him and asked, "What's wrong, Ray?" 

"Can't sleep." 

"Ah." 

Ray couldn't help but snicker. "Ah?" 

Fraser smiled at him, and how could Ray not smile back? "Thanks, Benny." 

Unsure what he was being thanked for, Fraser looked at him for several long moments. "You're welcome. Close your eyes, Ray. Nothing can hurt you. I'll keep you safe. Nobody's going to hurt you." 

"Don't let go?" 

"I won't.  I won't let go until you tell me to."  He squeezed Ray tightly for emphasis. 

"I love you." He yawned, suddenly sleep sounded very tempting. 

"I love you, too." 

Unfortunately the next several nights were the same. Fraser had no idea what happened when Ray stayed at the Vecchio house, but there was hardly a night that wasn't similar to the first one when Ray stayed over. Ray never left the bed in the middle of the night again, but he hardly slept. 

* * *

After getting the address from an unsuspecting Elaine, Ray went to  
check on Joey. Knocking on the door, he was surprised when Joey opened  
the door.

"Hey Joey, remember me?" 

He nodded. 

"Are your parents home?" 

He shook his head. 

"Oh." Ray was dumbfounded. They left a ten-year-old boy, with a broken arm, alone? "So how are you?" 

Joey shrugged. 

"Here, I brought you something. Thought it might cheer you up." 

He smiled, surprised. Then Joey shrunk back as Mr. Toth pulled into the driveway. 

"Get in the house, Joseph. Detective Vecchio, was it? What can I do for you?" The words were forcibly ejected in a cold tone that sent shivers down Ray's spine. 

"Just checking up on Joey." 

"Yes, well, as you can see, he's fine now. Sorry you wasted your time." 

Sorry. Sure you are. Funny, but I get the feeling that my time is the last thing on your mind. "No trouble. Besides, I wanted to give Joey a present." 

"Look, Detective, Joseph is my son. He doesn't need any help from you. Unless you have some business with me, I want you to stay away from my family. Do you understand me?" 

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye as a small hand held the curtain back and a small face peeked out from the window. "Fine." But I will find a way to help you, Joey. I promise you. 

During the days he did his job, spending the rest of his time studying the Toths. He knew, somehow, that something was going on and he was determined to stop it before Joey got hurt again. 

* * *

Fraser had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him. At least he'd  
taken off his uniform. He was sleeping at attention, his back straight  
and his feet firmly planted on the floor. Quietly, Ray moved him until  
he was stretched out more comfortably. Loath to disturb him, he chose  
to begin dinner.

He found himself drawn to the couch and the man on it, returning to the food only to find himself watching Fraser sleep. Finally, he couldn't fight the temptation anymore. Turning off the stove, he slipped out of his shoes and carefully crawled onto the couch. He wasn't planning on sleeping, he just wanted to feel safe and loved for a while. Fraser smelled fresh, like the outdoors, and he was warm and definitely better than any pillow. 

He woke up once about forty-five minutes later. He opened his eyes but still couldn't see anything because his face was pressed against the couch and Fraser's upper arm. Looking up blearily, he saw Fraser was still asleep. Not wanting to cut off the blood circulation to the arm that had become his pillow, he tugged until he was resting on Fraser's chest with two arms wrapped around him in a loose embrace. Usually stiff and formal when awake, Fraser was extremely maneuverable when asleep, making him an excellent, though rather large, teddy bear. 

* * *

Ray's efforts to find something did not go unnoticed. "A moment of  
your time, Detective?" The words were not a request.

"Yes sir?" 

"I just got a call from Commander O'Neill. Would you like to tell me why?" 

"I have no idea." 

"It seems that she received a call from her boss. It seems that he got an earful from his old golf buddy Bill Toth about some harassment from a certain detective of mine?" 

"I'm not harassing anybody, sir. If he's got nothing to hide-" 

"Stay away from him Vecchio. If I hear one more complaint . . . " 

He should have known better than to continue arguing the situation. "But sir-" 

Welsh's facial expression could only be described as stony. 

More calmly he continued, "Are you taking me off the case?" 

"Case? What case? There is no case. Go home, Detective." 

"Sir-" 

"Think of this as a vacation. One day grace period. Don't argue with me Vecchio." 

"Yes sir." 

* * *

The sex was good of course, a bit more mechanical that ever before  
but that could be blamed on the events of the day and the last few weeks.  
The love behind the words, which gave meaning to the physical was still  
there, undamaged, just blemished slightly by other overwhelming emotions  
that he was not consciously aware of.

As exhausted as he was, he couldn't fall asleep. He thought back to when they had first begun sleeping together, after acknowledging their feelings but before going very far. On that first night, such a long time ago it seemed, Ray had woken up to find himself surrounded by a big, warm octopus. Having seen Fraser sleeping before, flat on his back, stiff as a board, Ray was quite amused to see the change. Fraser had woken up to find Ray looking at him, his green eyes twinkling like a mischievous leprechaun. Noticing his position, Fraser had immediately blushed and attempted to detach himself from Ray, only to find Ray doing his own octopus impression, tightening his hold like a professional wrestler. 

Once again wrapped in Fraser's arms, he remembered. "I always knew you'd be a cuddler." 

"Relax, Ray." Fraser was having a hard time staying awake. 

He hasn't had much sleep lately, thanks to me, Ray thought bitterly. "I can't. It's like trying to pick a lock with a fresh herring." 

"Why are you so sure something is going on? Why does this get to you so much?" He fought a yawn to continue. 

"I don't want to talk about it right now. Why don't we go to sleep?" 

"I'll be the only one doing any sleeping and you know it." Worry allowed him to be blunt. 

"Well, you need it. We'll talk in the morning." 

"All right. But I'm going to hold you to that." He reached over and turned off the light, not missing Ray's sudden intake of breath. 

Settling back, he felt Ray turn on his side and move in closer, a strong tension in his body. He moved one hand across Ray's back and side, firmly enough not to tickle. They lay quietly for several minutes, exchanging sweet kisses until Fraser yawned. They arranged themselves in the bed, Fraser on his back, Ray on his side. Ray's head was right beside Fraser's ear, so he heard Ray's barely audible mumble. "Did I ever tell you about my dad?" Ray asked half asleep. 

"Not much." Fraser replied in a whisper, unsure if answering loudly would break the moment. He flashed to a moment of himself and Ray in the diner, in the woods after the plane crash, and in the Riv. 'If it was my father, well, let's just say that I'm the last person you'd want on the case . . . Camping. He promised to take me camping . . . I learned two things from my father. One, timing, mostly when to duck. And two, you never hit a kid, cause it doesn't teach him anything.' Understanding began to dawn in a horrifying manner that explained so much. He realized that in his remembrance he might be missing Ray's words so he dragged his attention back to the present. 

"And I'd be sitting there, doing homework, or reading a book, didn't matter." He cast a rueful glance at Fraser. "He'd open the door just enough, stick his hand in and turn off the light. No warning, nothing. Even during my wedding I was still playing the game. He was my best man. I didn't want that. I didn't even want him at the wedding, but I couldn't not invite him. I remember when we were in the car on the way to the airport for our honeymoon. Angie thought it was so sweet that I was almost crying. I didn't have the heart to tell her that it was because of _him_." he said bitterly. "I hated him so much. And I couldn't do anything about it. I remember all the times I tried so hard to be what he wanted but I couldn't make him love me." 

He expected Ray to continue but he grew quiet. He could see how much it hurt Ray to talk about his past. His father was one topic on which Ray had been unusually reluctant to discuss. Fraser held Ray's hand in his, interlocking their fingers, and Ray continued, "I always thought that it was me. My fault. If I had just been smarter, stronger, faster, he would have loved me. But I was never smart enough. Nothing I ever did was enough to make him say, 'I'm proud of you' or even 'I love you.'" 

"I'm sorry, Ray. I know it doesn't help but I'm sorry." But Ray hadn't really heard him. 

"And I would tell myself that I was good enough, and that it was his loss, you know?" 

He turned to Ben, who nodded. 

"I kept waiting for it to get better. It didn't. Not when I graduated high school, not when I got married, not when I became a cop, not even when he died. It's like, what's the point in playing the game if you're the only one following the rules? He didn't follow the rules. Parents are supposed to love and support their kids. They're not supposed to hate them for no reason. It makes me angry. There was nothing I could do.  I would tell myself that it was really sad; that he was the one missing out, and that I wasn't going to let it hurt me. But it did. Somehow I just never learned that all I was doing was opening myself up to be hurt. So each time he blindsided me or didn't say it, it hurt even more. Every time I wanted to do something he'd ask me how long it was going to take me to mess up. I would sit there and tell myself how stupid I was, not just because he said it but because I kept expecting something to change. It wasn't him hitting me that hurt the most. I mean yeah it hurt of course but it was the rest of it too. I just wanted him to love me." His voice was quavering dangerously as he continued. "But I wasn't smart enough or strong enough or . . . Maybe if I had been . . . " He was crying now, there was no way to pretend otherwise. 

Ben held him until he was finished. Ray fell asleep, tired from having finally expressed his pain and anger and even though he'd been exhausted, now it was Fraser who couldn't sleep. Sometimes he just wanted to scream, to punch his fist into a wall or something. Anything. It had to go somewhere, didn't it? He was afraid to let go because he might hurt someone. The way he'd been raised had given him no outlet for the anger he felt at Ray's pain. He knew of no way to deal with those emotions except to hold them inside and take care of Ray. Ever since he'd met Ray he'd been learning to express his emotions; without Ray, Victoria's betrayal would have been unbearable. But now, with a greater understanding of all that Ray had been through as a child, he could hardly control himself. Ray always took care of everybody else. "Ray, you don't owe anybody anything. You never did. We only want you to be happy." 

"Dad?" he whispered again, not wanting to wake Ray from his much needed sleep, "Dad?" 

"Yes, son?" Fraser Sr. tried not to stare at what he was seeing. 

"I love Ray." 

"I see, son. I guess this means I won't get any grandchildren." 

"Probably not, Dad." 

"Ah. Good night son." 

"Good night Dad." 

* * *

Ray did a lot of thinking the next day. He'd never told anyone that  
much before. He'd never even admitted it to himself all that much. He  
could remember things his father had said to him. Most of them had been  
said when his father was too drunk to know his own name. Most, but not  
all. Those were the ones that hurt the most. Those few words when his  
father was stone cold sober ripped his heart into pieces. Whoever said,  
sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, was  
either a liar or a fool. Words were worse. After a while you learned  
to deal with the fists. The occasional drunken punch was easier than  
the constant feeling of having disappointed. The bruises faded and ice  
lowered the swelling. You couldn't put a Band-Aid over words.

And how could he tell anyone what was going on? His mother would be devastated. She knew her husband drank a lot, but she wasn't aware of the rest of what occurred between Carmine Vecchio and his son. Ray's tears weren't from neighborhood bullies but his father's words. When he left for the police academy, he swore never to have anything to do with his father. When he married Angie, he thought it was forever. He promised that his children would be loved, and they would know it. He'd known the marriage was over for a long time before the divorce. He and Angie hadn't been right for each other. They'd both been running from people in their lives. Ma had wanted him to move back home at that point. Maria and Tony were living there with their growing family. Francesca hadn't left during her short-lived marriage. But it wasn't until his father died that Ray moved back in. 

He was glad that Fraser didn't treat him differently or expect him to talk the next day. He just stayed close, in case Ray did want to talk. It was comforting that Benny wanted to take care of him, and for once, he didn't have to be the grownup taking care of everyone else. He'd been worried about eating with his family later in the day, but aside from a handful of glances at his quietness, no one noticed anything different. 

* * *

His phone was ringing. He didn't really want to answer it, but force  
of habit had the phone open and at his ear before he consciously realized  
it. "Vecchio. . . . What? I'll be right there."

He pulled up at the Toth house, barely remembering how he got there, to find the house surrounded by police cars, a police van, and two ambulances. Somewhere inside the house was Bill Toth, holding a gun to his wife and son. A neighbor had called in screaming. When two officers were dispatched, they knocked on the door. An enraged Toth, holding a gun, had slammed the door in their faces. Once it was determined that other people were in the house, a negotiator had been called in. The police now faced a standoff. New technology allowed them to see and hear what was going on inside. 

Several people were watching the monitor, and Lieutenant Welsh was one of them. Vecchio's expression begged to be allowed to participate and Welsh, having his own suspicions as to Ray's interest, didn't have the heart to turn him away. 

Bill Toth was pacing the room and lecturing, waving his gun to emphasize a point. His wife was sitting in a chair, stiff as a board and looking ready to faint. Joey, only nine years old, was in a corner of the room, making himself as small as possible. The room had several windows, but only one door, which Bill Toth had partially barricaded. 

The situation began to deteriorate rather quickly, right in front of Ray's face. Reacting to some unknown signal, Bill Toth began to move. The gun was going off before he could blink. As he turned and pointed the gun at Joey, his wife made a run for it. She was quickly taken outside to be checked out by the paramedics. Simultaneously two officers charged Mr. Toth, finally disarming him. As he was being dragged outside, Ray ran inside. 

The room now had several more people in it, including the police negotiator. Now that the adrenaline rush was over, most of the officers were milling around the room, but no one had thought to secure the gun. He was horrified to see Joey pick it up before anyone could react. Every cop in the room froze then slowly reached for their own guns, procedure fighting the normal human reaction all the way, but Joey wasn't pointing the gun at them. Gingerly he turned the gun around so that it faced him. His small arms shaking he was looking straight down the barrel. One sudden move and he might pull the trigger. 

"What's his name?" The negotiator whispered. 

Nobody answered him. Ray realized that he was the only one who could help Joey. He gestured to the others to give him some room, glad to have someone else take responsibility, most of them complied. Soon only Ray, Welsh and the negotiator were left in the room with Joey and the gun. The negotiator began to talk but a look from Welsh silenced him as Ray stepped cautiously toward the frightened boy. 

"Joey. It's okay. Can I talk to you for a little bit?" 

A tear stained face turned at his voice. "I'm bad." He whispered. "It's all my fault." 

Ray fought back his own tears. "No, it's not your fault. I promise you. It was never your fault. You're not bad." 

"Yes, I am. He said so. He always says so." 

"He's wrong. It's not your fault. I promise he won't ever hurt you again. Just give me the gun, okay?" 

Several tense minutes followed as Joey looked from the gun to Ray's pleading face. 

Ray spoke gently. "Give me the gun, Joey. No one else needs to get hurt. Everything's going to be okay now." 

"Promise?" 

Ray stepped closer and pulled the gun from Joey's hands. "I promise." He trembled as Joey wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his head into Ray's stomach as he began to cry. Minutes later, Joey was on his way to the hospital with his mother. 

He stepped into the sunlight, eyes blinking at the harshness of the sudden lights, and saw that Fraser was headed toward him. His desire to let Fraser take care of him now was eclipsed by his anger when he saw Bill Toth being bandaged by the paramedics as several police officers kept an eye on him. With his hands cuffed Bill Toth didn't seem like much, rather he looked like the assistant vice president that he was. Without warning Ray punched him. No one made a move to interfere as Ray moved to punch him again except Fraser. 

"Ray, stop. You'll kill him. He's going to jail. Let him go. Joey's okay. He's never going to hurt anyone again. You did everything you could. It's okay." With great effort he pulled Ray off the man and let the uniforms take him away. 

"It's just that I know how the kid feels, Benny. It's not a good way to grow up. There are things a parent should never tell their child. No matter what they do or say." Ray finished vehemently. 

"Ray, it's okay." 

"No, it's not, Benny. It's not okay. It'll never be okay." He said the last in a soft whisper that Benny had to strain to hear, as if he was talking to himself. Ray was caught up in his thoughts as he walked out with Fraser. Ray was in no condition to drive and going back to the Vecchio house was obviously not a good idea, so Fraser carefully drove to his apartment. 

* * *

He knew that Ray needed to talk about what had just happened.  The only question was, would Ray be able to handle it?  One glance suggested that Ray was entirely too fragile right now.  He was sitting on the bed, almost absolutely still as if he was trying to hold himself in.  Every muscle was tensed, one arm wrapped in front of the other, fingernails pressing into the skin above his elbow as he tried to stop his arm from shaking. The other arm was tucked closer to his stomach, nails digging into the palm of his hand. 

He sat down next to him, hoping to provide whatever reassurance he could.  The instant he covered Ray's hand, Ray stood up and began pacing.  He could see the pale crescent imprints against Ray's olive skin.  A few had been deep enough to break the skin and he was afraid as he realized how deep Ray's anger went. 

Ray struggled for control, gradually coming to a stop in front of the bed. 

"Ray, are you-" 

He took a deep breath.  "Benny, don't get me wrong, I love you, but I really need to be by myself for a while, okay?" 

"Ray, I don't think-" 

"Look, I know you're only trying to help, but I need to deal with this alone. I'll see you tomorrow." Please don't stop me, please. 

"Okay. Just promise me you'll be careful." 

Ray almost smiled, if nothing else, he would never hurt Benny by doing something stupid. He stepped closer. "I promise. Thank you." 

"I love you." 

"I know. I love you too." 

He walked to the Riv and just started driving, not quite sure where he was going. Hours later he was at the shores of Lake Michigan. The wind was blowing made the temperature a bit chilly, but Ray just pulled his coat tighter around him. 

"Oh yeah Joey, I'll help you." He whispered in frustrated self-mocking. "I'll protect you." His words were bitter and full of loathing. It was beginning to rain but he didn't notice. Unconsciously he was pacing again as he spoke, hands tightening into fists, trying to release all the emotions inside of him. Trying to release them before he exploded. It didn't work. 

Finally noticing the rain, he got into the Riv. Not ready to go home and not wanting to see anyone, he shouldn't have been surprised when his father appeared. 

"Well, if it isn't Superfaggot." 

"Shut up, Pop. You can't hurt me any more." 

"You always were a whiner. So what, women ain't good enough for you now?" 

"Yeah, that's what you would think isn't it, Pop?" He was calm now, not a quaver in his voice. 

"How long do you think this is gonna last? How long before he realizes that you're not what he wants? He's only using you-" 

"Do you listen to yourself?" He interrupted. "I'm not good enough for him, he's not good enough for me. Which is it? Could you at least be consistent?" 

"Listen to me, son." 

"Son? Son? You were never a father to me! I can't think of one time you ever said 'I love you.' Do you know how much I prayed and hoped that you would just tell me that you were proud of me? Just to feel that I was more than a pain in the ass who would never be daddy's boy?" 

"Don't you speak to me like that. You'll never get anywhere being so cavalier. Show me some respect!" 

"Respect? For the guy that hit me? The father that I was never good enough for? What was it, huh? What did I ever do that made you hate me? I want to know, what was it? When did I become the one who was always at fault?" 

"You're a-" 

"A homosexual, Pop? Not really. I loved Irene. I loved Angie. I love Benny. It's that simple. But you don't have an answer do you? You're not man enough to tell me." 

"It'll never last. Just find a woman-" 

Part of him was panicking as his father berated him. But a bigger part, a better part knew that Fraser would never hurt him like that. Knew that for whatever reason, Fraser loved him. After all, he'd said it. And Benny would never lie. "You just don't get it do you Pop? He makes me happy. I'm not always wishing for something more. I'm content. I have everything I could ever want or need. Nothing you or anyone else can say is going to change how I feel about him. And I'm the luckiest guy on earth because for whatever reason, he loves me too." 

* * *

Fraser was slightly nervous as he entered the police station. Ray  
had said that he wanted to be alone for a while but he needed to make  
sure that Ray was all right. Maybe he was being over protective but Ray  
had seemed unusually vulnerable lately. He intended to go directly to  
Ray's desk, but he was interrupted by Lieutenant Welsh.

"Ah, Constable Fraser. I was wondering when you would make your entrance. Perhaps you might improve Detective Vecchio's foul temper before someone decides to shoot him with a tranquilizer." 

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. I think the Toth case brought back some unpleasant memories." 

"I sympathize, Constable, but he's just going to have to deal with whatever it is. Can he do that? I don't want to suspend him but he's headed that way." 

"Perhaps if you could give him the afternoon off?" 

"All right. Tomorrow too, he's got the time coming for catching this." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant." They could hear Ray arguing with Elaine. 

Welsh nodded and made a shooing gesture as the voices grew louder. "Get him out of here." 

* * *

"I asked you to put the files on my desk, Elaine. What part of that  
didn't you understand?"

"Look Ray, I don't know what your problem is but I put them on your desk. There they are right there." 

Before the argument could escalate, Fraser stepped in. "Ray? We can leave now." 

Fraser and Elaine both breathed a sigh of relief when Ray began gathering his things. "Thanks Fraser. I was about to strangle him. What's his problem?" 

"It's been a hard week, but he'll be all right. I'm sure he'll appreciate your concern when he's feeling better." 

She opened her mouth to reply but Ray was headed back. He had calmed down substantially. Perhaps too calm. In a robotic voice he apologized to Elaine. 

"No problem, Ray.  Take it easy, okay?" 

Ray only nodded.  The silence of the drive home was broken only by the radio as Ray drove on autopilot.  He pulled into the driveway but didn't get out of the car. 

"Ray.  We're here.  " 

"I know." The words were not angry, but distinct and almost empty of emotion, as if Ray couldn't care less where he was. Again he took Ray back to his apartment. 

He stepped out to use Ray's phone to order dinner and called Mrs. Vecchio to tell her Ray would be staying there that night.  She knew something had happened but not what.  He told her as little as possible, just enough so she'd understand.  Any further explanation he would leave up to Ray whenever he was ready. 

When he returned to the apartment he sighed. It was obvious that Ray had been crying. Even with his own upbringing and Ray's obvious reluctance to cry in front of him, he couldn't pretend he didn't notice. He sat on the couch next to Ray and didn't miss Ray's slight pulling away.  He stopped himself from reacting, knowing it wasn't about him. 

* * *

A few days later Welsh called him into the station again, handing him a letter.  Addressed to Ray, it was from Joey and he didn't even consider the ramifications of Welsh giving the letter to him first and letting him decide whether or not to give it to Ray. He could worry about that later.   In a way, he didn't want to give Ray the letter, afraid that it would cause Ray to retreat even further.  On the other hand, it was Ray's letter, and maybe it would help him get back to himself.  More than anyone he knew, Ray kept real pain to himself.  He would bluster and complain about the little things, but he would hold everything else inside.  He was still shaky from what had happened and only time would stop the pain. If the letter wasn't good news, any progress that Ray had been making would be shattered. 

Ray took the situation out of his hands quite simply.  He came over and as quiet as he was lately Fraser hadn't heard him until it was too late and Ray saw his own name on the envelope.  One look at the address and he dropped it, closing his eyes and visibly flinching. 

"Benny." 

He had automatically bent down to pick it up and looked up, startled at the childlike quality in Ray's voice.  His hands, Fraser noticed, were clenching and unclenching unconsciously. "I know Ray, I know. Sit down." 

Ray was frozen, staring at Fraser with wide open eyes until Fraser led him to the couch.  He sat down and pulled Ray against him, holding him tightly for a moment.  Then he placed the letter in Ray's hands.  "It's entirely up to you."  He added as an afterthought, "I can leave if you'd like." 

"No."  Carefully he opened the letter, holding it slightly away from him as if it might bite.  Inside was a single sheet of everyday notebook paper which he pulled out.  Forcing himself to read, his eyes moved quickly--thank you--mommy said--much better now . . . . Near the end was a sentence that he read over and over, muttering out loud. 

The tightening of the arms around him reminded him that he wasn't alone.  "Oh god Benny.  _I wish you were my daddy. . .  When I grow up, I want to be a police man just like you."_

He was crying and this time Benny was there and maybe this time it would be all right to cry.  Just this once. 

* * *

Eventually, the crying stopped, cathartic in its emotional release.  When it was over he began talking. 

"I just realized how much he affected my life. It kills me to realize that he at least partially controlled my decision to become a cop. It's like I had no control over my life, so when I finally got away from him I chose a career that would not only give me authority and control over situations, but a career that I knew he would hate." 

"Do you dislike being a police officer?" 

"No, I love it. I didn't at first, but lately I feel like I'm really helping people." 

"That's my point, Ray. Whatever reasons made you choose to become a police officer, you're a good one because you care. There's nothing shameful in that. I fell in love with you, not a cop, and if you decide that you want to do something else, that's okay too. It's your decision to make. Just give yourself some time. I love you no matter what you decide to do." 

"Thanks, Benny. Um, there is one thing. Would you come with me when I talk to Ma? I want to tell her about us." 

Ray was nervous, he realized with a grateful sigh. He was releasing emotions into his words. This was the Ray he knew, this was the Ray who felt everything that Ben was afraid to. Fraser pulled him close until Ray sagged against him, accepting the offered comfort. "Of course, Ray." Relieved that Ray was back to normal, he knew that he was being selfish. But however self-sufficient his father told him he should be, he couldn't help but revel in Ray's touch. From before they had been anything more than friends, Ray had been the only one who ever really touched him. Women liked to touch him, rather, they liked to pet him like a display, thinking that he would make them happy and solve all their problems. Ray didn't want anything beyond what he was willing to give. "I love you." 

Ray smiled so sweetly at him.  "I love you, too, Benny." 

* * *

In the Riv, Fraser sneaked a glance at his partner. His face was set in shadow, even though it was still light outside. A small frown was tugging at his mouth, more like his thoughts were unhappy than like he was upset. Not even Dief could get him to react much lately. An abundance of silver-gray fur on his charcoal Armani slacks had only yielded ineffectual brushing and a shrug. Now they were on the way to the Vecchio house, where everyone would be out for the night except Mrs. Vecchio. He wasn't sure if Ray was ready for this. Ever since the Toth case, Ray had been less resilient than usual. His rambling complaints had been conspicuously absent and he'd spent a lot of time thinking. "Ray?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Would you give me your hand?" 

Ray graced him with a small smile, tender in its fragility. He knew that Ray would worry over him and it wasn't a complete falsehood, he was rather nervous over Mrs. Vecchio's reaction to the news. 

"It'll be okay, Benny. She thinks of you as another son already. This will just make it even more true." 

"I want to believe you Ray." 

"Trust me.  We'll be fine.  Everything will be fine." 

"All right.  Let's do this." 

"That's the spirit, Benny." 

* * *

"Ma?  You got a minute?" 

"Certainly Caro.  Here try this."  She handed him the wooden spoon. 

"Perfect.  Um, I need to tell you something."  He took a deep breath.  "Ma, I love Benny and he loves me." 

"Si, and?"  She stirred the sauce as his jaw dropped. 

"What? You knew?" 

"Caro, I knew before you did." 

"And you're okay with that?" 

"Raymondo, you were always such a sad boy. So much hurt and pain. He makes you happy. That's all that matters." 

"Wow." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Vecchio.  That means a lot to me."  He didn't fight the hug, he reveled in it. 

* * *

They sat on the couch in Fraser's apartment again. 

"Wow." 

"Yes, Ray." 

Several minutes later, "Wow." 

Fraser nodded.  "Indeed." 

Ray turned to him and kissed him, a wet, sloppy, sexy kiss that went on endlessly without need of oxygen. Words were unnecessary at this point. 

The temperature in the room rose steadily.  Or was it just him?  He'd never thought anyone could make him come just by kissing him, but if they didn't stop, he'd come right then and there.  Benny was stroking the inside of his arm. 

"What do you want, Ray?" 

He couldn't answer. 

"Tonight is yours, Ray. Let go, I'm here to catch you. I'll be your fantasy." 

Ray took several unsteady breaths, watching helplessly as Ben began to undress them both. 

Ben never hesitated, never stopped stroking and gentling and caressing.  He could almost feel the air move as Fraser pulled him close.  They kissed again and Ray came, seeing a swirl of vivid color all around him. He was still wearing his pants. 

Fraser smiled and Ray couldn't help but grin groggily back at him, overwhelmed by the day and the love he felt for this man who would always be there to talk him down from the edge. He let Ben take the rest of his clothes off and push against him gently, satisfied with just being with him.  He spent the last of his energy to smooth over skin and muscle urging Fraser to his own completion. 

After several minutes a damp cloth cleaned him up and he was helped to the bed and tucked in.  Locking up for his sake and turning off the light, Fraser joined him in the bed, pulling him close and curling over him protectively. 

Fraser's weight on him was warm and soft and oh, so comforting.  He could feel his heartbeat against his side, feel soft breathing on his neck.  Wrapped up in his arms, nothing seemed to matter. 

* * *

"Ray.  Ray.  Wake up." 

"Huh?"  His father was standing in front of him as he lay there with his naked lover.  Was someone playing a joke on him?  "Whaddya want, Pop?" 

"I know that you're doing this to get back at me.  So just stop it!" 

"You don't know anything.  You never knew how I felt and you don't know now." 

"I am your father, boy.  Do as you're told." 

"With you I'm always damned if I do and damned if I don't.  You can't order me around.  I'm a grown man; I make my own decisions and I've made this one!  I'm not a little boy anymore.  I'm not afraid of you.  If I had known then the things I know now, I would have realized what a joke you are." 

"What would your mother think?" 

"Like that ever mattered to you anyway.  Besides, she already knows.  She knew before I even told her and she's fine with it.  The only person who isn't fine with it is you.  And you know what? It doesn't really matter, cause I don't need you to be happy. What you think doesn't matter to me anymore. I don't know why it ever did.  Get over it, Pop.  I'm going to sleep." 

Next to him, Fraser started to wake up.  "Are you okay, Ray?" 

His eyes were soft and sleepy as they looked at him, fringed in long, dark lashes. "I'm fine Benny.  I'm not afraid of the dark anymore."   


* * *

  
Good Night.  
 


End file.
